Frederick had been alone for so long he'd almost become numb to it. It was routine, and he paid it little mind. But sometimes, the silence was deafening. It was at those times, he would bury himself in work, telling himself he, the great Dr. Chilton, needed no one. Frederick barely believed it himself, but he learned to swallow down his own self-doubt.

Now, after the gutting and the shooting, Frederick realized how empty he felt with only his career in his life, that he hated being alone.

After Gideon attacked him, no one was there at his hospital bed when he awoke. And after being shot, no one again.

Well, that wasn't completely true. There had been FBI agents assigned to watch him, as Frederick was handcuffed to his bed. Nothing like waking up in pain, and breaking down into a sobbing mess in front of two government agents.

It didn't take them long to clear him, and yet it baffled him still. How anyone could think that he, Frederick, who couldn't even outrun Jack Crawford, was the Ripper. A man with dietary limits and a cane, who left a path of becoming a surgeon, in part, because he hated looking at blood and guts. It was almost comical.

His parents had called, and his mother had visited a few times after each injury, after he woke up alone. But how nice it would have been to have someone to hold after he woke up in a cold sweat, nightmares stealing his sleep. He would wake sobbing, his heart feeling too tight in his chest, with no one there to hold him close and tell him it would be alright.

Frederick would go to his bathroom to rinse his face, then cry again when he saw his reflection. This only reaffirmed his fears, he would most certainly end up alone, he told himself. What woman wants a man who looks like a freak and has so many emotional and physical issues. No woman Frederick, his inner voice would taunt him. All Frederick saw was a man who was so...damaged.

After this last attack, Frederick ached for someone by his side, or at least, for fuck's sake, a friend to talk to.

Frederick had tried to make friends with his coworkers at the BHSCI, even before the accidents, but he got the distinct sense that they found him ridiculous. That, and of course he overheard some of their conversations. After that he acted much colder around them, not wanting anyone to know he could be hurt by mere words. He pretended he was confident and above them all, only distancing himself further from them.

Sure, listening in to patients and staff may not have been the most ethical thing, but it was a compulsion. Frederick had never been that great with people, as strange as it was for a psychiatrist. Then again, he mostly dealt with the medication, not intensive therapy.

Frederick had never quite fit in, though he had tried, throughout his whole life. He wanted so badly to be liked, to be respected, though he would never say it aloud. He thought he had a friend in Hannibal, only to find the man had set him up. Jack and Alana he thought respected him at the very least, but they did nothing to help him when he was in danger. Will, well, he couldn't really blame for not being on his side. To be fair, Frederick did testify against him.

Frederick had made a mistake with Gideon, this was true, but he wanted to do well in his career, and thought the man was the ripper. After all, his career was all he had.

Now, Frederick could no longer shut out the sound of silence. He was nervous to go back to work, but also knew he would get lost in his loneliness if he stayed home. Frederick imagined that people would now mock his slower speech. Every fiber of his being prayed that he could stop caring what others said or thought.

Perhaps he needed to go to therapy. The thought caused another wave of sadness to pass through him. He had no one to talk to without paying them.

Frederick would see happy couples holding hands while he did little errands before returning to work and found himself overwrought with sadness, the emptiness more pronounced. He thought bitterly that he would never have that sense of belonging. Of someone who looked at him with adoration, who truly loved him.

The emotional ache was worse than what he had felt at the hands of Gideon or Lass, and he now understood his patients more so than he ever had.

And so, to escape from the self-loathing in his own head, Frederick was finally returning to work after the shooting. One hospital to another, he thought bitterly to himself. For months he had been in recovery, working with speech therapists to get used to part of his jaw being gone.

Dios Mio, how many pieces was Humpty missing now?

Frederick sighed as he pulled up to the hospital, having practiced "putting his face on" for the last week, in preparation for this day. At least before the last attack, he was able to keep up appearances, pretend to be confident. Frederick wasn't sure he could do that anymore. He just wanted to hide, away from people.

He inhaled deeply before entering the building, head down as he made his way to his office, clutching his cane like a life line as he walked.

"Oh, Dr. Chilton, welcome back," his secretary greeted. The elderly woman was somewhat surprised Chilton was there. He had also told her he was going to return last week, and the week before that, but he had panicked and called to say he needed more time. She was expecting him to do the same today.

"Hello Gloria," he said, nodding but not looking up. "I'll be in my office."

He passed her as quickly as he could to get away, as he felt anxiety creep in like a silent killer. It was real now, he was here, and the idea made him want to run, scream, or weep. He wasn't sure which. But he had to get somewhere AWAY.

"Sure! Oh Dr. Chilton?" She called out to his back, as he paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Dr. Mackey is asking that you supervise the fill in doctor, she's going to be here next week for Tania's maternity leave?"

Frederick sighed, gritting his teeth.

"Can't…can Dr. Mackey not do it herself?"

He had just returned and his fellow doctors were leaving him orders? He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself to stave off an anxiety attack.

"Oh, well, she was supposed to, but she thought it would be better now that you were coming back, since you are the most experienced," she said encouragingly, knowing her boss could be difficult, and a stroke to the ego couldn't hurt.

Truthfully, Dr. Mackey had said now that Frederick was back she was going to finally go on vacation or would quit. Dr. Mackey was difficult herself, more than that, she was downright mean. She was, however, an asset to the hospital and Gloria knew Dr. Chilton would want to keep her.

Frederick sighed.

"Fine. Just…get me her CV, please, I'll go over it before she starts next week," Frederick mumbled, opening his door.

"Already on your desk!" Gloria called out cheerily.

Frederick closed the door behind him, sighing as he locked it and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure he could deal with her or any of the rest of his fellow staff, as he sat down at his desk, holding his cane tight and taking several deep breaths to ground himself.

It was going to be a long week.